


nobody knows, nobody sees

by Anonymous



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Blackmail, Dirty Talk, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Verbal Humiliation, not a Good Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He finds out later that the kid is visiting his dad—FP fuckin Jones, of all the fathers in the world, which makes him wonder how someone as shitty as that could have a kid like—Jughead, he hears him say, and he prays to god it's some kinda nickname because who the fuck would name their kid Jughead. It fits him, somehow—better than his real name, which he looks up after the kid leaves for the day, walking back out with his hands deep in his pockets.Jughead Jones. He's pretty.





	nobody knows, nobody sees

**Author's Note:**

> based on the kinkmeme prompt: A prison guard becomes obsessed with Jughead and takes every opportunity to feel him up when he visits FP. He propositions Jughead to treat FP better in exchange for sex. At first Jughead refuses but when FP is beaten up and thrown in the hole, he accepts. The guard even takes to bringing Jughead to his home or picking him up from school.
> 
> do read the tags and the warnings and dont read this if it'll trigger you or anything

 

He first sees the kid on a Sunday. He's bored, still tired from waking up too early this morning, and the kid catches his eye immediately. He's young, probably around 16, 17 at the most, dark hair, lots of beauty marks, with this hat on shaped like a crown. A little king. The kid barely spares him a look when he walks by, face dark, and he catches a glimpse of pretty blue eyes. He's infatuated instantly.    
  
He finds out later that the kid is visiting his dad—FP fuckin Jones, of all the fathers in the world, which makes him wonder how someone as shitty as that could have a kid like— _Jughead,_ he hears him say, and he prays to god it's some kinda nickname because who the fuck would name their kid Jughead. It fits him, somehow—better than his real name, which he looks up after the kid leaves for the day, walking back out with his hands deep in his pockets.    
  
Jughead Jones. He's pretty.    
  
Pretty enough that when he comes back two weeks later, Richard steps forward to pat him down. He takes his time—not long enough to draw attention to it, but enough to feel the press of the boy's hip bones through his jeans, to trace the back of his thighs and the length of his arms just quick enough for Jughead to wonder whether or not he's imagining it. He gives him a look when he's done, wary and a little confused, but doesn't say anything before he walks away.     
  
He does it again next week, gets a good quick grip on his thighs this time, presses up against his back just to feel the size difference between them. He feels the boy's pulse quicken, feels him jump, and so next week he barely touches him at all, just pats down his pockets and pats him on the back to move him forwards.

The week after that, he does it again, more deliberate this time, and the week after that, he carefully approaches him.    
  
"You're FP's kid, right?" he asks.

"Yeah."   
  
"How would you like to secure your dad's safety?"    
  
"You could do that?" Jughead asks, pretty eyes wide and hopeful. 

"Course I could. But you'd have to do something for me."   
  
"...like what?"    
  
"Oh, I dunno," he says, tracing the curve of his neck, dipping his thumb down into his collar bone, bringing another hand to rest lightly on his waist, "I'm sure we could think of something..."   
  
Jughead jerks away, disgusted and surprisingly shocked. Richard tries not to take it too hard—he knows he'll get what he wants eventually. He can do this the hard way if he needs to.   
  
"Is that a no?" He asks, exaggerating disappointment.   
  
"It's a fuck you," Jughead spits, and tries to push past him.   
  
Richard grabs him by the arm, "You sure about that?"    
  
Jughead yanks his arm away and keeps walking. Richard sighs. "Okay."   


* * *

 

The next week Jughead comes in to see his dad, Richard is the one to tell him FP isn't available. 

"Fuck you mean he isn't available?" Jughead asks, meaner than he remembers, following him into the hall near the bathrooms.   
  
Richard shrugs, deliberately slow, "Your dad's been acting up. Tried to hit a guard, so we had to hit him back. He's in solitary."   
  
"What?" Jughead blinks, "I wanna see him."   
  
"He's in solitary, kid," he repeats slowly, tilting his head like the boy is being particularly stupid.   
  
The kid notices, and scowls. "Did you do this?"   
  
"I didn't do a damn thing," Richard lies, "wasn't even there."    
  
He's quiet for a long moment, "Is he okay? My dad?"   
  
"For now."   
  
"For now?" Jughead repeats; he looks almost scared, now. Young.    
  
"I got no control over the others," Richard says instead of offering comfort like he knows he should, "Besides, I got no reason to protect FP fuckin Jones."    
  
Jughead looks close to panic, in a quiet way. He licks his lips, eyes darting everywhere but Richard; thinking, probably, of some way to get out of this other than what he knows he has to do. Richard can make it all kinds of worse for FP in here, and the kid knows it. So he waits—better to let the kid suggest it himself.   
  
"If I," he starts, and stops, and starts again, "If I—did something, for you, would you...?"   
  
"Would I what?"   
  
"Would you help him? He didn't do anything wrong."   
  
Richard laughs at that, "Kid, he's done plenty wrong—he's in fuckin prison." Jughead's face falls, so he continues, "But sure, I can keep him out of trouble. Long as I get something back."   
  
Jughead takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself, and says, "Okay."    
  
Richard tries not to react too strongly, because it as easier than he expected; kid must really love his dad. Richard personally thinks that the man doesn't deserve it, but it works fine for him.   
  
"Okay," Richard repeats, much more pleased than the kid. "On your knees, then."   
  
"R-Right here?"   
  
Richard raises an eyebrow, his blood rushing at the shock on the kids face, so different from the indifference he wears like a crown. He takes the kid by the upper arm, glances around, and pulls him into the bathroom.    
  
"Right here," he clarifies, locking the door behind them. Jughead flinches at the sound.    
  
Nothing happens for a long moment, Jughead looking vaguely lost, so Richard has mercy on the kid and gestures to the floor. The kid takes a breath, and sinks slowly to his knees. Richards dick twitches from the sight alone.    
  
"Take your jacket off," he orders. Jughead does, actions stilted, and folds it carefully on the floor. Richard laughs, and steps forwards. Jughead flinches as he undoes his belt, pulls his zipper down.   
  
"You ever done this before?" He asks.   
  
The kid shakes his head, and Richard groans, gets his pants around his knees and gets a hand under that damn beanie to grip the kids hair.    
  
"Open up," he says, pulling him forward. Jughead does, and Richard moans at the first contact of those warm lips on the tip of his dick.    
  
True to his word, it's obvious the kid has never done this before, but it doesn't make it any less heavenly - makes it even better, if you ask him. He's the first one to ever stick his dick down Jughead's throat, the first to ever hear the way he chokes, see the flush on his cheeks or the way reflexive tears gather in his eyes when Richard forces his head down.    
  
He does try to be gentle at first, but then the kid makes this pretty, panicked whimper when he holds his head down for too long and he decides that what the hell, he's doing the kid a favor, so he might as well take what he wants. So he pulls on his hair a lot, finds out he loves the way his throat feels gagging around him when he pulls him into the thrust of his hips, finds out he can hold his head still and fuck into his throat easy as nothing and the kid'll just take it - went relatively limp around the time he started yanking him around, smart enough to relax his throat and let it happen - and fuck if that doesn't have his blood rushing.    
  
"Yeah, take it," he finds himself murmuring, voice echoing in the quiet of the empty bathroom alongside the general blowjob-noises, "Just like that, good boy - wonder what your daddy would think of you if he knew what you got up to for his sake," he laughs at the glare the kid tries to shoot him, not very effective through the tears, "You look real good like this, you sure you never done this before? You know how to take it like a slut - a pretty one.”

The kid squeezes his eyes shut, swallows reflexively around him, shakes his head as best he can while still keeping his lips around his dick, and then Richard is gone, shooting down his throat, holding him in place with a firm, "Swallow," and then pulling out and coming all over that pretty face, too. Marking his territory.    
  
Jughead sputters for breath, coughing and gasping greedily for air. He looks so vulnerable like that, on his knees, breathless and covered in Richard's cum, that he feels his dick faintly twitch again. He considers fucking him, taking him right here on the bathroom floor with the kids dad in the same building, but he decides that can wait. So he pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture, instead, immortalizing his swollen red lips and messy hair.    
  
Jughead quickly smooths it out, pulls his beanie down over the tips of his ears, pulls his sleeve down to wipe at his face and pushes himself to his feet. It doesn't stop it from looking like his mouth just got fucked, but Richard decides not to say anything - no need to embarrass the kid any more than he already has.    
  
"Good job, kid," he says, putting an arm around his waist, holding him steady when he flinches away.    
  
"Will you get my dad out of solitary?" He asks, voice rough.    
  
"His time is almost up," he admits, "But I'll keep him outta trouble."    
  
Jughead nods sharply, "Okay."   
  
"What, no 'thank you'?"    
  
Jughead scowls, but grits his teeth and says, "Thank you."    
  
"You're welcome," he says, grinning, pats the kids ass just because he can. Jughead jerks away from him, crossing his arms over his chest.    
  
"Can I go?" He asks shortly.    
  
"Sure," he says, calls "See you next week," as the bathroom door swings shut.   
  


* * *

Jughead hugs his dad the next time he sees him, even though it's against the no-touching rules. Richard, watching from the security camera, decides to let it slide. The kid's earned it, he thinks with a grin. He watches them talk for a bit—the kid seems vaguely anxious, but Richard doesn't think he says anything about him, about their deal. He thinks FP would lose his shit if he did, and he stays relatively docile the whole forty-five minutes, so Richard is sure he doesn't know.    
  
Good boy, he thinks. Smart boy. A part of him wishes he would tell him, wishes FP could know exactly what has been done to his son, but the more rational part is glad he doesn't.    
  
Afterwards, Richard leads Jughead back behind the front office and into his parked truck and fucks him right there, pressing him hard into the leather seat. He makes these delicious sounds, whimpers and moans and sobs like he's dying - Richard does try to make it good for him, though, as a reward for keeping their arrangement a secret.    
  
"Not like you could tell anyone," he admits, snarls into the skin of his neck and he fucks him, "You don't have the money to sue, and who's gonna believe some trailer trash son of a criminal? Sides, you tell the police and they'll probably move you out of riverdale, you'd never see your dad again. You want that?"    
  
Jughead says nothing, turning his head to the side like he's trying to hide.   
  
Richard doesn't let him, gets a good grip on his hair and forces him to look at him, "I asked you a question. You want that?"   
  
"No," Jughead bites out, squeezing his eyes shut.    
  
“Course you don’t,” Richard breathes into his neck, feeling rich on the power he has over this boy, “So you’ll be a good boy for me, right? To help your daddy?”    
  
He shakes the kid by the hair when he doesn’t answer. “Yes,” he spits.    
  
Richard doesn’t like the tone he’s using, so he thrusts in hard, and orders, “Yes,  _ sir _ .”

“Yes sir,” Jughead repeats. Sounds like he hates it. It makes Richard smile as he comes. He gets a hand around the kid’s dick, holds him in place when he jerks away and works him hard and fast until he follows, spilling all over his hand and sobbing as he does. 

“Good boy,” he says. 

* * *

Two and a half weeks later and Richard pulls up to Riverdale High School at three pm sharp. He’s surprised Jughead goes to the rich kid school instead of Southside High, but he sees the kid walk out the front doors with his backpack swung over one shoulder. He’s talking to a redhead with a varsity jacket on, whose hand is thrown over his shoulder. He’s laughing. Looks happy. A spark of jealousy runs through Richard for a moment, and he rolls the window down.

The look on Jughead’s face when he sees him across the street makes his dick twitch. He drives closer, and the kids friend follows his gaze, confused. Jughead looks like he wants to bolt; Richard raised an eyebrow at him, and he scowls but walks up to the truck. 

“Who’re you?” The kid’s friend asks, trailing after him. 

“He’s, um—“

“One of FP’s friends,” Richard says. It’s not  _ untrue _ . He keeps the man safe, after all. 

The redhead frowns, “Like a gang friend?” 

“Something like that,” Jughead says, “What are you doing here?” 

“My dad asked me to pick you up.”

“It’s not a Sunday.” 

“He said he had somethin’ important to tell you,” he shrugs, “I dunno, I didn’t really ask.” 

“Tell him I’ll be there on Sunday.” 

“He was real urgent about it.” He holds steady eye contact with him until the boy looks away. 

“You want me to come with you?” The redhead offers Jughead, oblivious. 

“No,” Jughead says quickly, “No, I—you have an essay to write.” 

His friend makes a face, “Yeah, I guess so.” He glances over at Richard again, still faintly suspicious, but eventually says, “You still on for dinner later?” 

“Sure,” Jughead nods, gaze locked on the ground. 

“Alright. Tell me how it goes. Nice meeting you, I guess,” he says to Richard as Jughead pulls the passenger door open and slides inside. 

“You too,” Richard smiles. Jughead doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t say anything twenty minutes later, either, when Richard makes him get on his knees in the backseat and suck him off there. 

“You gonna tell your buddy about this, later?” He asks, fingers fisted in the kid’s hair. “You gonna get on your knees for him, too? Show him how good I been teaching you?” 

Jughead makes an annoyed sound around his dick that just makes him moan. He tugs until he feels the kid gag around him, throat spasming. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I don’t like sharing, anyways,” he promises. 

He holds the kid’s head steady and fucks into his mouth until the boys eyes start to water all pretty and scared. He wonders how long he could hold him down without the kid passing out as he comes down his throat. He swallows it all without having to be told. 

“You want me to drive you to your friend’s for dinner?” He asks as Jughead coughs. 

“Fuck you.” Jughead says, shoving the door open. 

“I’ll see you Sunday,” he calls, and the door slams shut.

* * *

On Sunday, he takes the kid to his apartment. He has to talk him into it, but in the end all it takes is a mention of his dad and solitary, and he’s willing to do whatever Richard wants. 

He fucks the boy good and proper this time, strips him down and spreads him out like he’s wanted to do since he first saw him. The kid seems to go somewhere else about halfway through, eyes faraway, but Richard slaps him out of it, gets a hand around his throat and makes him look him in the eye as he fucks him. When he’s tired of the boy trying to look away, he flips him over and yanks his hips up and fucks into him hard. He presses his pretty face into the mattress where it belongs, calls him a slut and a pretty pretty boy and holds him down until he cries. 

Afterwards, when Jughead is curled into the sheets, Richard slides a hand down between his legs and jerks him off slowly. He doesn’t cry this time, which Richard thinks is kind of unfortunate. He’s very pretty when he cries.

* * *

 

His fun comes to an abrupt end when overcrowding lets FP fuckin Jones out of prison and takes Jughead with him. The only leverage he has is the picture he took the first time the kid sucked him off in the bathroom and a video he took on his phone in the backseat of his truck.

When he reminds him of this, Jughead just says, “Yeah, and if you show anyone, you could get arrested. It’s child pornography.”

Which, he supposed is true. It pisses him the fuck off, but it’s true. He keeps it anyways, because the boy still looks so fucking good on his knees. 

Jughead glares at him as he walk out for the last time, and Richard wishes he thought to take more video.

 

**Author's Note:**

> named the guy richard because he's a dick


End file.
